Confession
by zutazuta
Summary: After years of keeping it secret, Horatio finally admits his romantic exploits as a youth with a fellow officer.


A/N: First I would like to say that this is my first fanfic, and I write it only at the suggestion of a friend. I would prefer some constructive criticism instead of "This so sucks" or any other short sentence review if you feel such a thing is necessary. This was not beta'd, so please forgive grammatical errors. Also, I'll only continue this based on reviews. If people like it enough, I'll write more. If not, I won't waste space and bandwidth on it. With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy this rather short chapter.

Confession  
By: zutazuta

In more than one way, time was running out. Winter had nearly set in, which meant a shortage of paper and ink. The sun was setting, which meant that soon no light would be available. Granted, there were candles, but old eyes were never made to see by candlelight. Perhaps most importantly, though, Horatio had gotten quite old, he knew that his time upon the earth was limited, that any day it could be taken from him. Time was swiftly running out.

Overall, Horatio Hornblower had had a long, satisfying, and successful life. His childhood had never been miserable. And his naval career was, humbly, magnificent. After all, he had been the youngest Captain in the British navy, and had reached the title of Admiral. His life off the sea had been rewarding as well. He had married a young woman, much younger than himself, yet still they had been happy. She had been a good wife, more than faithful despite his almost constant absence, but also loyal. She had always supported him, stood by him, defended him. She had given him children, all of whom he loved, and had watched over their estate with a scrutinizing eye. Horatio had never wronged her, and yet still he felt guilty.

This guilt had been overwhelming him for some time now, and he felt the only way to bring an end to it was a written confession. And so, Horatio had set forth, determined to bring every dark aspect of himself and his past to light. Only recently had he realized the source of his guilt. Horatio loved his wife, even if he wasn't in love with her. She had been a good companion, a loyal confidant, and a wonderful conversation partner. He did love her, but she was not his love. His love was long gone from his life now.

It had been long ago, only a short caprice, and it had ended… badly. At first, it had seemed insignificant, but as the years passed, he found himself yearning for those few months again with the deepest parts of his very soul. It had been love, it had been the purest and deepest and most passionate he had ever experienced. It had been the only brief moments of happiness in his life at that time. It had given him the strength to carry on. The flame that had been ignited in him had warmed him in the coldest of solitude, and had lighted his surroundings in the darkest of depression. It had been like an engine that kept him striving for ever greater heights, pushing to go ever farther with his pursuits. It had been to most positive force on his life.

Horatio had every intention of revealing this to his wife, so that he could die with a free conscience. He laid out some paper, a few quills, an inkwell or two as he prepared to write the letter. He locked the door so that there would be no interruption and made certain that he had plenty of candles. Finally, he poured himself some brandy, for nothing loosens the tongue or bolsters the spirit like alcohol.

_To my Dearest Wife_, he wrote, and found himself at a loss for words. He paced to the window, gazing out as the sunset blazed crimson across the horizon. Taking a deep breath, he plunged onward.

_I write this in order to rid my soul of a guilt that has threatened to destroy it for many years now. I should have revealed this to you when we first married, and I can only apologize for my tardiness, I can give you no reason or excuse for it._

I intend to recount to you my years in His Majesty's Navy, starting with my time as a Midshipman aboard the Justinian_ and ending with my first post as Captain upon the _Retribution_. Undoubtedly you have heard from my comrades many of the stories of the trials and tribulations that befell me upon the ships I have served, indeed, I would venture to say you know nearly everything that has happened to me in my career, but this account which I am about to lay before you is known by none other than myself and one other, whom has, to much grief and melancholy, passed on.))_

Specifically, it is not about my career at all. It seems, in fact, that the account to which I am referring only coincidentally falls at the same time within my career. Granted, it is my involvement with the navy that bought these events into being, and my involvement that brought them to an end. Indeed, many of the problems in this account were caused by my involvement. Still, the power these events have held over me, I believe, would not be diminished had the circumstances been difference. I refer to the time I spent with my lover.

My dearest wife, I do not attempt to deny that the love I have felt for you is not pure and complete, but rather, it is not intense. I love you as a friend, a wife, the mother of my children, a companion, and a confidante. I daresay, you have been my saving grace these many years. However, you are not my first or only love. In fact, you are not the one to whom I would attribute my deepest and most passionate love. There is but one who holds this love, which has carried me on over the years. A wonderful person, a person who would commit the ultimate sacrifice for others, a person who was both gentle and strong, a person whom I was fortunate to serve with even for a short time, and fortunate enough to love. His name was Archibald Kennedy.


End file.
